Of course, I wasn't turning out to be a very good sister to Anna. As I lay tossing and turning in my bed, the previous night's incident replayed itself with harrowing clarity in my mind. It was incredibly hard to forget about it; the image of little Anna, laying cold and motionless on the ground, haunted my every thought. I don't know how long I lay awake in my bed, shifting uncomfortably. Hours seemed to pass before I managed to fall asleep. But even then, in the seemingly safe confines of slumber, vivid nightmares afflicted me, forcing me to relive every agonizing second of the previous night's events. At times, they showed me an alternate reality, one in which we were too late to save Anna. I would wake up frantically throughout the night, finding a layer of frost on my covers each time. Then I would uneasily go back to sleep, and the painful cycle would restart itself.
Seconds passed. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned into hours. And soon enough, the hours turned into days.
Autumn passed and winter took its place. The beautiful oranges and browns that decorated Arendelle gave way to whites and blues. All the while, I lived my life miserably confined in my room, never leaving once. By the time the first snowfall came, I still wasn't used to my new lifestyle. Mama and Papa would visit me occasionally. They would try to encourage me, and assure me that my current situation wouldn't last for long.
"I know you must be feeling lonely," Mama once said to me, "but before you know it, you'll be able to control your powers, and you'll be living a normal life again. Just a few weeks, Elsa. Then you'll be free." Despite her kindness, I somehow knew that her words weren't true.
Papa tried to teach me how to control my powers. He didn't know what it was like to have magical abilities like mine, but he tried his best to understand me and my problem. "Conceal it, don't feel it," he would say to me every day, "don't let it show." The phrase became my own personal maxim, my cardinal rule to live by. In hindsight, I realize that this philosophy - repressing my powers deep inside me - was only doing more harm than good. But to my young mind, it seemed like the most practical solution. The funny thing was, it actually worked for a while. My ability was safely kept under wraps. But even then, I could feel the ever-present icy feeling in my heart, practically begging to be released. It grew stronger with every passing day. I figured it was only a matter of time before I wouldn't be able to hold it back anymore.
My suspicions were all but confirmed early one morning, as the snow fell gently from the bright morning sky. That day, I was sitting on my bed, reading one of my storybooks. I was wholly immersed in the tale of Jack Frost when I heard the light pitter-patter of a certain someone's tiny feet approaching my door. My eyes slowly lifted from my book in disbelief as an all-too-familiar voice came from outside.
"Elsa?" said the person at my door. It had been ten whole days since I had heard the sound of her voice. It was like a breath of fresh air to me. My sister knocked on the door in her distinct, rhythmic manner. Before realizing what I was doing, I hopped off my bed, ready to answer.
She continued, "Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on, let's go and play!" Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks, halting to a complete standstill in the middle of the room. As she kept talking through the door, I found myself frozen in place. The last time she had asked me that question, things hadn't ended up very well for the both of us. I simply couldn't go out there and play with her; I knew, just as well as Mama and Papa, that if I did, I would only end up hurting her. I couldn't let that happen again. She may not end up as lucky as she did the last time I hit her with my magic. But at the same time, I knew that refusing to play would break her little heart. And after ten days of seclusion, I was longing to spend some time with my sister. What was I going to do?
There's only one thing I can do, I thought to myself.
Anna continued speaking, her voice muffled by the wooden door. "Do you wanna build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman..."
I steeled myself. Then, before I had a chance to regret anything, I curtly said, "Go away, Anna." Each word cut deep into me like a knife. The effect was immediate. Even as I spoke those three words, tears sprung to my eyes. For a full second, a piercing silence hung between us. I could only imagine Anna's devastated face on the other side of the door.
"Okay, bye..." she finally said, her voice full of despondency. I heard her dragging footsteps slowly recede down the hallway. For a while, I only stood in place, immersed in my own guilt. Then, when I was certain no one could hear me, I ran to my bed and buried my face in my pillow, breaking down into tears.
That afternoon, I knelt on a bench by the window, looking outside longingly as Anna, far below, tried in vain to build a snowman by herself. Without me, she wasn't having much success; her creation was nothing more than a crude pile of snow with two crooked twigs sticking unevenly out of it. When it fell apart for the third time, she looked up and groaned in frustration, nearly catching sight of me at the window.
I wished, from the bottom of my heart, that I could step foot outside, at least once. After the day's episode with Anna, my spirits were feeling lower than ever. I felt the cold sensation in my heart escalate abruptly, but I paid no attention to it. A big mistake, on my part. As I put my hands on the windowsill, the feeling rapidly spread up my arms and into my hands. I gasped and drew my hands back as a thin layer of ice immediately materialized on the windowsill.
No, I thought as I stared at the blue frost, please, no. How could this happen? It was the first sign that I was losing control over my powers.
Later on, Papa visited my room and found me standing by the frozen window, ashamed. "Elsa?" he said, "What happened here?" Barely managing to hold back tears, I explained everything to him - how I had shunned Anna, and inadvertently froze the window just moments later.
"It was an accident!" I pleaded as I watched Papa walk over to the windowsill, "I didn't mean to do it. It just...happened." For a few agonizing seconds, Papa only stood in front of the window, carefully studying the sheet of ice I had created. Then he turned to me. I expected him to reproach me for losing control, but instead, his face was full of understanding.
"It's all right," he said, "it's not your fault. Now, come with me. I have something for you."
Despite the smile on his face, I still feared the worst. Was he going to punish me for losing control? Nonetheless, I obediently followed close behind him, and for the first time in ten days, I finally left my room. It felt like I had been gone for years; the usually busy hallways were quiet and empty, since many of our servants were now permanently gone. Papa led me into the library, where the fireplace was burning brightly. Unlike the cold, empty hall, the library seemed warm and inviting. It wasn't any less quiet, however. I watched as Papa walked over to his desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a pair of white gloves, similar to the ones he wore, but much smaller.
"Here," he said, "hold out your hand." I did as I was told, and he neatly slipped the glove over my cold fingers. "The gloves will help," he continued as he put the other one on my right hand. Immediately, I felt safer, like wearing the gloves was somehow helping me control my powers. Papa smiled ever so slightly. "See? Conceal it..."
"...don't feel it," I continued the phrase, all too familiar to me by now.
"Don't let it show," we finished in unison.